The practice of one individual being an expert in determining which couples should be together doesn’t have a known beginning date. But, human nature being what it is, I can imagine that as long as people commanded language, one person rose to the forefront in this arena of advising.
Often, criteria for determining a suitable match would be more important to the parents. Wealth, either in property owned or income potential, and/or social status would be qualifiers for a desirable partner. Matchmaker would use different methods to practice their expertise. The shadchan of the Ashkenazi Jewish community had to have relationships with those who were considered the prominent families within the community. Such a person became a trusted advisor, and after the first few successful matches, the matchmaker’s reputation was set.
Astrology was used within the Hindu culture, with the matchmaker claiming the suitability of the pairing (usually one that both parents already approved of) was written in the stars. Arguing against such a statement must have been hard for the young individuals involved who might have been unsure of the match. Tarot cards were also used.
 |
| Sereina Elwert Pinterest Board |
In US frontier times, community dances might have been the stage where a woman who was good at reading body language (before the term was invented) watched young people interacting and could pinpoint young people who showed interest and relay that information to the parents. If this person used her skill only to warn against certain matches, then she might have been labeled a gossip.
The need to seek advice on who is a good match continues into modern times with dating apps.
My next release titled A Quilter for Quint contains a matchmaker who is quite a revelation.
BLURB
Daydreamer Melisande Avenelle wishes all the social engagements her mother insists on would just disappear so she can focus on her quilt making. Where some artists see images in dabs of paints, Melisande imagines landscapes made from the fabric of the dresses worn at a tea party. After her refusal of the third man put forth by famed matchmaker Madame Treszka, she’s informed she must choose from three groom candidates arranged by her mother. Thinking Texas can’t be as bad as Newport, Rhode Island, for social engagements, Melisande pens her response and boards a westbound train.
Widower Quinton Aznar has a six-year-old son who wants a mama. Since his late wife’s passing four years ago, Quint divides his days between breaking horses for the Army and parenting his son with no time for courting. His mother manages the household and tends to her youngest grandchild, although she would love to move to Galveston to live with her sister. The telegram announcing the arrival of his mail-order bride—a woman his mother corresponded with—on the next stagecoach is a shock. Quint drives the wagon into town, intending to pay for her return ticket. The beautiful, but disheveled, woman who disembarks the stage is too dazed to trust traveling on her own. What has his mother arranged for his life?
